Rhythm and Blues
To handle dreadful time, to cherish it
although I have no gall for such-
past the ennui of night’s workload,
this jive which I embrace relentlessly
fizzles like soapsuds in my nails;
a voice quelled with the dirt of blue mood…
How lethargy chokes me, its tar roasting
my senses humid as air, more apt for birds,
that I cruise along an alley where piano tunes
with acoustic strings invite a certain madness--
the scent of rhythm and blues perks
ached limbs, gradually tapping a free
movement pleading abandon…cheeks lighten,
enthralled by an opulence of notes;
till I scream, yes, time, though you're a dreadful bane,
I will hold you wildly, once again.
1/6/2018
For Craig Cornish: Blue Contest
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2019
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